


Jealousy, Alcohol and Sex

by Bontaque



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Multi, Polygamy, Strained Relationship, based off of music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-08
Updated: 2012-07-08
Packaged: 2017-11-09 10:58:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/454692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bontaque/pseuds/Bontaque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A piece based around some songs by The Killers, mainly Jenny Was A Friend Of Mine, as I haven't been able to stop thinking about this sort of thing every time I listen to it. The whole 'Muder Trilogy' (Leave The Bourbon on The Shelf - Midnight Show - JWAFOM) all fit, though. </p>
<p>Playlist in notes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jealousy, Alcohol and Sex

 His head hurt. It really hurt. Mike knew he was in a cell, he didn't need to open his eyes for that. the last thing he remembered before passing out was being thrown roughly inside it. He could smell the bourbon on his breath, stale and sickly. Was that why he was there? He realised that he would have had to be pretty drunk to just pass out on the bench in a cell.

He pried his eyes open and looked around, expecting to see Trevor. He'd been thrown into a cell to sober up, Trevor must have been involved. Maybe he had just gotten away, Mike thought that would have been pretty likely. Mike was just pondering the fact that people arrested for being drunk didn't usually get put in small cells on their own when his door was opened by a stern looking police officer.

"Ross? Come with me."

Mike stood up awkwardly; his hands were cuffed behind his head and he'd only just noticed. That was new, maybe he'd been drunk and disorderly. Or aggressive. Somehow. Mike wasn't an aggressive drunk.

He frowned when the officer stopped in front of a door. Mike nearly walked into the back of him, expecting to be taken to the front desk for fingerprints and processing. He'd never been interrogated before.

What had he done?

He sat down in the chair behind the table in the small, windowless room and watched the officer walk away before he shut the door. Mike tried to remember what had happened the night before. 

He remembered the drinking. Oh god, the drinking. Trevor being way too drunk and Jenny being upset. Mike... he'd tried to calm her down and failed and then he'd continued drinking. That was all he could remember.

If he'd thought the police officer had looked stern, he was wrong. The detective that came in and pulled him from his thoughts reminded him vaguely of his high school principal when him and Trevor had gotten into trouble for smoking pot in the toilets. 

Mike wished they could do this some other time, like when he didn't feel like his brain was expanding inside his skull. At the same time, though, he really wanted to know what had happened.

It had to be something serious, because when the detective sat down, he didn't speak. He sat there, sipping his coffee and reading through a file. Tactics to make him nervous, Mike thought.  _ Shit _ .

"So, Mr. Ross, where were you last night?" the detective asked. No introductions.

"Uh, out with friends, I think. Yeah," Mike said, his voice cracking a little. "Sorry, it's a little hazy."

He grinned, tried to make this easier. He didn't know what he'd apparently done. Maybe he'd picked a fight, something stupid. Maybe Trevor had picked a fight and he'd tried to stop it. That seemed more likely.

The detective didn't smile. If anything, his gaze became colder.

"I'm sorry," Mike said. "Uh, I mean, what is this about, exactly?"

"Those... friends. Would they be Jenny Griffith and Trevor Evans?"

"Yeah... yes. Why? Where's Trevor, did he do something?" Mike asked before he could stop himself. He realised a little too late that if Trevor had gotten away with something, he probably shouldn't be implicating him.

"We don't know where Mr. Evans is. We were hoping you could help us with that."

"What? Why? What's he done?"

"We're not sure. He is a suspect, of course, but no less than yourself. When did you last see Jenny Griffith? We have reports that you two left the bar together."

"What do you mean? Can't you just tell me what happened?" Mike asked.

The detective just raised his eyebrow, waiting for his answer.

"Yeah, okay, we left together. Sort of. She left, angry at Trevor and I followed her to try to get her to come back. The weather was awful last night and I didn't want her walking home like that..."

"Then what?"

"What do you mean? I found her on the promenade, out in the rain and we talked but she wouldn't come back. So I left, went back to the bar. Carried on drinking, ended up here."

"Are you saying Jenny was still conscious when you left her?" the detective asked.

Conscious? Mike's blood ran cold.

“What do you mean, conscious? Of course... why would she have been unconscious? She hadn't been drinking that much,” Mike said. He tried not to lose it. “Is she... okay?”

“And she was alone? There was nobody else with her?”

“Just tell me, is she okay? I'll tell you anything. Tell me what you want to know, come on.”

“Jenny Griffith is in a very critical condition. You're lucky you're only facing attempted murder.”

“What? Attempted... what? Look, I know I was there, I get that but you can't really think I did this? Where's my motive? Jenny is my friend!” Mike shouted. He knew he probably wasn't helping himself but he couldn't help it. He couldn't believe they'd think he did it.

“Mike, where did you go after you left her?”

“I told you, I went back to drinking. At the bar.”

“And was Trevor there when you returned?”

Mike took a minute to think. First to remember if he was there, then to decide what he should say. Did he tell them the truth or cover for Trevor? If they thought that he did it... Mike knew that people sometimes went down for crimes they didn't commit and he knew there was no way Trevor would have wanted to hurt her. But... what if this was a test? It was likely that they had CCTV footage. They probably knew.

“No...” he mumbled

“Sorry? I didn't hear you.”

“No, uh, I couldn't find him. But look, he wouldn't have done anything to her. He loved her.”

“So they were in a relationship? I was under the impression that you and Jenny were in a sexual relationship. You were seen kissing her on the promenade,” the detective said.

“Well... yeah, I was. I love her, too. It's complicated.”

“Jealousy is a serious motive. If he'd found out about you two...”

“No, wait. He knew. It was the three of us,” Mike said. “It's always been the three of us.”

“Oh,” the detective said, visibly shocked. “Well, the motive still stands.”

“No, it doesn't. Neither of us would hurt her. Is she going to be okay?” Mike asked. “What happened?”

“She was found in the early hours of this morning. It looks like she was bludgeoned over the head and left for dead,” the man said, as if it wasn't the worst thing Mike had ever head. As if the thought of her lying in a hospital bed didn't make him sick to his stomach.

“We're waiting on some results,” the detective said. “You can wait in here until our psychologist has time to question you.”

  
  


*

  
  


It took hours. Mike was brought food and water before the psychologist finally visited him. Mike looked at the man's watch as he sat down; he'd been waiting for nearly three hours. He knew it was a tactic but the psychologist looked nice enough. He didn't glare at him the way that the detective had and he was young, looked almost as young as Mike.

“Hello, Michael. I'm Dr. Lindsay. Sorry to keep you waiting, they sort of make me.”

Good cop bad cop? Or, well, good shrink, bad cop.

“Uh, okay. What do you want to know?”

“Okay, well, I hear you were in a polygamous relationship with the victim and... Trevor Evans. Is this true?”

“Well, yes, but don't say it like she's dead. No need for past tense. She's still my girlfriend and I'd like to get this over with as soon as possible so I can get cleared and go and see her.”

“How did you find that? Surely it was a bit complicated?”

Lie. Lie through your teeth.

“No, not really. Me and Trevor both love Jenny and well, me and him are best friends. Always have been.”

“So, you two sort of share her? That's got to be hard.”

“No! I mean, it isn't like that. Me and him... I love him, too. It's the three of us. Not two sets of two.”

“I see. So you must know Trevor pretty well.”

“Better than anyone. Maybe. I mean, Jenny knows him pretty well too, but me and him... we're best friends... it's different.”

“Right, so... do you think he could do this?”

“What? Of course not.”

“Are you sure? I know he's your friend but you need to think of Jenny here. People can do stupid things when they're drunk and from the looks of the CCTV in the bar, he was pretty wasted.”

Trevor was always wasted. Lately. He couldn’t have done this but the shrink had a point. Trevor had a temper. He always apologised and, even at his angriest, he never meant to hurt anyone but sometimes he did.

“No. He couldn't. He wouldn't. Okay, he's done some stupid things, but he'd never leave her. If he did this, he wouldn't have left her.”

“But he wasn't at the bar when you got back?”

“No, he wasn't. But that doesn't mean anything. We were gone for quite a while, like ten minutes. He might have thought we weren't coming back,” Mike said.

“Okay.”

Dr. Lindsay didn't speak again, he just wrote something down onto a pad. It was infuriating. Mike couldn't help worrying about Jenny. Was she going to be okay? And what about Trevor? He was apparently missing, or at least the police couldn't find him. He definitely couldn't have done anything wrong, Mike knew he couldn't have done it, so what if whoever had hurt Jenny had hurt him too?

“Look, I'm sorry, but do you have any actual evidence?” Mike asked.

Dr. Lindsay looked surprised.

“Mike, you were the last person seen with her.”

“I know that, but that doesn't prove I hurt her. I know my rights, I've been here all day,” Mike said.

He did know his rights. Trevor had been in trouble enough and he'd studied Law for a while. He knew exactly what he was entitled to. There was no way they could keep him without evidence.

“Well, we're waiting on some results, but yes, if they come back negative, you can leave.”

“Wait, what?”

“Jenny seems to have struggled with her assailant,” Dr. Lindsay said. “Her parents agreed to let us take samples from under her fingernails. Thank you for your information, Mr. Ross, I'll be back shortly.”

  
  


*

  
  


When Mike was alone, he examined his arms as covertly as he could. Jenny had struggled with him, he knew she had. What if she'd scratched him? He tried to remember everything that had happened. He wondered how it had gotten to this.

Mike knew that their arrangement wasn't perfect but it had always been the best they had. Now... this? He didn't know what he was supposed to do.

  
  


*

  
  


Previously:

The weather had finally brightened up, it had been raining for days. Mike stretched and got out of bed. He walked into the kitchen to find Trevor struggling to make pancakes. Jenny obviously wasn't back yet. She'd taken some time to go visit her parents, apparently because she missed them but Trevor and Mike both knew it was because she needed some space.

Mike couldn't imagine it any other way, but the three of them definitely wasn't working. It hadn't ever worked, though. That hadn't stopped them before. Mike remembered when it had started, back when they had just been Trevor and Jenny... and Mike. Mike and Trevor. Mike and Jenny slowly falling for each other. It had always been weird. One night, when they were both drunk and Trevor was meeting one of his “software clients”, Jenny told Mike that she'd only stayed with Trevor because she'd fallen in love with him instead. It didn't matter, though. After five awkward years together, the three of them loved each other, even if it was some, strange co-dependent love.

The problem was... well, the main problem, there were a lot of problems... was Trevor's jealousy. He always got weird when Mike and Jenny were together. When the three of them were in bed and Mike kissed Jenny for too long, Trevor would get annoyed. He wouldn't say anything but they'd know, he'd be rough, his teeth breaking the skin instead of grazing softly over them.

Mike didn't understand it, Trevor was happy to have the both of them but he couldn't see them both together if he wasn't involved. It wasn't perfect but it was all they had.

Mike shrugged the thoughts out of his head and walked up behind Trevor, wrapping his arms around him. He might be mad at him sometimes, for making everything so complicated lately, but he loved him. If he thought about it, if he had to make a choice, Mike would probably choose him over Jenny. He'd always loved him, always felt something a little more than friendship, even before Trevor got with Jenny. Trevor had too, he knew, he could tell from the way he used to curl up with him when they got high, but they hadn't done anything about it for years. Not until Trevor had admitted it.

If he was honest, Mike only put up with the fucked up mess that was their relationship because he knew it was the only way he could be with Trevor. Trevor wasn't ready admit that he was into guys, not to anyone but Mike and Jenny.

Of course, Mike loved Jenny, too. He had to, anyone would love Jenny, especially after everything they'd shared. There was something about dealing with Trevor that brought people together. She was beautiful and their apartment seemed somehow darker when she wasn't their. Like when the sun would go behind a cloud, like the light had been sucked from their lives.

She was due back today but Mike wasn't sure when.

“Mike, I'm cooking,” Trevor said.

He could tell he was trying to sound mad, but Mike could hear a hint of a smile in his voice.

“Is that what you call it?”

“Fine, well if you want to be like that, you're not having any,” Trevor said.

“Oh, no, what will I ever do without my plate of food poisoning?”

“You can't get food poisoning from pancakes, idiot,” Trevor said, turning around and kissing him.

He turned back and flipped the pan. Moments later, Trevor pushed the pancake onto a plate and turned the stove off.

“C'mon, come to bed,” Mike said, tugging at the hem of Trevor's black vest.

“Mike, I just made breakfast.”

Mike ran his hand down over Trevor's stomach, down to his boxer briefs and squeezed softly at his hardening cock. The soft kiss to the back of his shoulder did the trick; Trevor groaned, only slightly annoyed and turned round, pulling Mike against him and kissing him deeply. This was how Mike loved him, slightly scruffy, hair still messed up from sleep, no arrogant defence mechanisms. The two of them walked back together, aiming for the bedroom but falling onto the couch. They moved against each other with practised ease, hands tracing familiar lines, mouths slipping over each other as they kissed and licked and bit.

Mike thrust against Trevor's leg, shuddering at the sensation. They were both hard, both pulling desperately at each other when the door opened.

“What's that... Trevor did you try to cook?” Jenny asked.

“Mmf...” was all Trevor could say with his lips pressed against Mike's neck.

“Oh, fuck... yeah okay I wasn't expecting this when I came through the door,” Jenny said.

Considering their arrangement, the three of them didn't actually have sex together all that often. Threeways were just too complicated for every day and they weren't usually all in at the same time. It was usually Mike and Trevor, because, fuck, if they even sat next to each other for too long, they ended up fucking. Jenny usually left them to it, but she sometimes helped them along and got involved if she wasn't busy.

Mike would often come out of the shower to see Trevor and Jenny curled up somewhere. Mike and Jenny only really did things together if Trevor was out and then always acted like they hadn't once he got back.

“I thought we'd all agreed no more sex on the couch,” she said. “You know, after the last time we got it cleaned.”

Jenny pulled the two of them up, much to their annoyance and led them into the bedroom. They both collapsed onto the bed, pulling her with them.

“Guys, I can't, I've got to the bank,” Jenny said.

Mike and Trevor ignored her, as always. Mike watched Trevor kiss her and push her golden hair off of her shoulders. She smiled and pulled Mike closer to them, pulling at the hem of his sweatpants. He pushed them down and pulled off her shoes for her.

“You can go later, right?” he asked.

“Fuck... no, I really can't...”

Jenny pushed them away and Trevor groaned in frustration. Mike moved towards him and kissed him quickly, to shut him up. He knew that if Jenny needed to go, it would be for the best. There had been enough times when they'd put something off and regretted it later.

“Jen... stay? We missed you.”

She shook her head and bent down to kiss them both and kissing her was so different from kissing Trevor. Her lips were softer, warmer and always tasted of watermelon.

“What am I not good enough for you, now?” Mike asked, grinning.

Trevor rolled his eyes and pushed him down onto the bed, running his hands over his tented underwear as Jenny put her shoes back on. She walked out and they heard the door shutting as Mike pulled Trevor's vest off over his head. He moved down his body and pulled his underwear down, relishing the moans Trevor made as he sucked the head of his cock into his mouth. He sucked enthusiastically as Trevor's fingers threaded into his hair.

“God, Mike, don't stop,” Trevor gasped as Mike swirled his tongue.

He kept going until Trevor started to thrust into his mouth, pulling away and laughing at the way he groaned at the loss.

“My turn tonight, right?” he asked.

Trevor shook his head.

“No, no I don't think so. It's mine.”

It was just this thing they did. Trevor wouldn't admit he liked it when Mike fucked him so he acted like it was a favour. It wasn't though, because they hadn't done it any other way for nearly a year. Mike didn't mind either way, but he thought that maybe Trevor liked the difference between him and Jenny.

He reached over to the bedside table and pulled out the bottle of lubricant. Trevor squirmed when he pressed his fingers into him but then he twisted his wrist, crooked his fingers and he was putty in his hands. Mike ran his other hand over Trevor's cock, jerking it slowly as he continued to open him up.

“Oh fuck... just...” Trevor breathed but Mike wasn't going to do anything else until he said it.

“Say it.”

“What... no.. just... fuck, Mike, please,” he said.

Mike pulled his fingers out and lubed up his cock as Trevor stared at him, eyes a little wild.

“Ngh, fine. Fuck me. Please,” Trevor said.

Mike grinned. Trevor needed to learn how to be more open with things and he didn't see why he couldn't learn this way.

He squirmed a little, pushing his hips up as Mike began to slide into him. He went slowly, teasing him with light touches to his cock as he went. By the time he bottomed out, Trevor was breathing hard, on the verge of begging him again. Mike thrust into him slowly, gripping his hips and kissing him hard. Trevor wrapped his legs behind Mike's back, pulling him into him, making him fuck him harder. His nails were digging into Mike's shoulders, sending jolts of pain and pleasure down his spine as he fucked him faster, urged on by Trevor's noises. He wished he was going to last longer, but they hadn't done this in a while, too long, but to them, a few hours was too long.

“Fuck...” Mike breathed, dropping down to press their lips together, practically licking the inside of Trevor's mouth.

They both gasped for breath and Trevor pulled on him hard, making him slam into him and that was it. Mike came hard, arms shaking slightly as he struggled to keep moving. Trevor slipped his hand between them, pushing his head back into the mattress as he jerked himself, only needing a few more seconds of stimulation before he came, too, clenching around Mike and making him collapse onto him.

They lay like that for a while, a heap of exhaustion, until they managed to crawl off of the bed. Eventually they made it back to the front room and Trevor attempted to pick at his cold pancakes whilst Mike tried to find something watch.

  
  


*

  
  


The next morning, Mike awoke to find Jenny in the bed beside him, clinging on tight to stop herself from rolling out onto the floor. They really needed to think about getting a bigger bed. There was a large space for him to roll into now, though. Trevor had already gotten up, which was unheard of.

Mike padded into the other room and found him up, watching television and eating cereal without any milk.

“What's up, man? Come back to bed,” Mike said.

Trevor didn't say anything, he just shrugged.

Oh, so he was in one of those moods. Mike walked back into the bedroom, it was too early to deal with that.

When he woke up again, Jenny was showering and Trevor had gone to work. Mike made some toast and sat on the couch.

“You want me to leave the shower on for you?” Jenny called through the bathroom door.

“That some kinda hint?” he called back.

“No... just if you want it...”

“No, I'm cool. Just hurry up and get out here, I'm bored.”

Jenny walked out of the bathroom with his dressing gown on and a towel wrapped around her hair.

“So you finally woke up, then?” she asked.

“Good morning to you, too, babes.”

“Afternoon, actually.”

Mike shook his head and kissed her, taking advantage of the fact that Trevor wasn't there.

“Hey, did Trevor seem a little upset to you, earlier?” he asked.

“Well, yeah, but what's new?” she laughed. “Mike, I want to ask you something.”

“What? Why do you sound so serious all of a sudden?”

“Well, I guess I am. It's about Trevor.”

Mike turned the television off and turned to look at her. They didn't talk about things, not sober. That was how they coped.

“What is it?”

“Be honest with me, Mike... He's not working for a software firm, is he?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, what did he say? He didn't want to choose between them, didn't want to drop Trevor in it but he'd been trying to get him to tell her the truth for years now.

“Er... no. How did you find out?”

“I answered his phone this morning when he was showering. I... how long has this been going on?”

“Fuck, I wanted him to tell you. You know how he is, though. He didn't think you'd let him continue and -”

“Well he would have been right! I don't want him dealing, Mike!”

“He knows what he's doing, you have nothing to worry about.”

“I don't care, it's not right.”

Mike didn't argue with her, he knew there was nothing he could say. There was probably another hour before Trevor got home. Another hour before everything fell apart.

  
  


*

  
  


As soon as Trevor got home, he knew something was wrong. Mike was sitting on the couch, looking a little... scared. Jenny stood up as he walked through the door and she looked calm. Which was never a good thing.

“Okay, what have I missed?” he asked.

“Where have you been?” she retorted.

“Er, work?”

“Oh, right, seeing one of your software clients, I guess?”

“Yeah... they needed to tweak the brief a little.”

“Why are you lying to me? I answered your phone this morning. I know what you really do. What you've been doing for years.”

It was obviously rehearsed, but Trevor didn't know what to say. He never wanted to lie to her but he never felt like he had another choice.

“Well maybe if you weren't such a bitch about everything, maybe I wouldn't have had to lie.”

It wasn't what he'd wanted to say, it wasn't what he'd meant. Her face said it all, though.

He walked into the bedroom, not sure whether or not he was glad that nobody followed him.

  
  


*

  
  


Mike was stroking Jenny's hair when Trevor came out of the bedroom again. She'd stopped crying but hadn't pulled her head up yet. Trevor looked like he was going to apologise but Mike saw his face shift as soon as he saw them together.

He saw the swagger in his steps, he'd been drinking. Mike didn't even know where he found alcohol in the bedroom. Maybe the vodka from New Year's was still in the bottom of the closet.

Mike stood up after Jenny moved off of him. He walked towards Trevor and hoped he wasn't going to do something stupid.

“Trevor...” he said but Trevor's fists were balled up by his sides.

“No, fuck, no Mike. What do you think you're doing?”

“What?”

“You're supposed to be my best friend, you're not supposed to steal my girlfriend!”

Mike sighed. This, again. Sometimes, Trevor acted as if he hadn't started all of this. He acted as if he wasn't the one that told Mike he loved him and asked him to move in with them. It was the one thing he could always yell about when he needed to yell about something, though.

He thought, maybe, Trevor was mad that Mike had sided with Jenny. Not that he had, it just would have looked like that. He wasn't going to take sides. Even though Trevor had lied to her, it really wasn't his business. It was something they had all always decided on, taking sides just caused trouble.

“Look, man, I know you don't mean that. Can we just sit down and talk about this?”

It took him by surprise, the way Trevor swung at him. It missed, he'd obviously drunk more than Mike had thought but the second one connected. Not hard, just enough to make him double over. Mike heard Jenny shouting and then Trevor stopped dead.

“Fuck, Mikey, I'm so sorry,” he said, sounding like he was going to cry.

Mike looked up and wanted to hit him. He wanted to walk out of the door, anything but shrug it off for Jenny's sake. That's what he did, though.

That's how they ended up in their usual bar, the three of them drinking like they were celebrating. The bartender kept refilling their drinks, a knowing look on his face. They were regulars, he knew them by name and could tell when they'd been fighting by now.

It all went well until they ordered the bourbon. They all should have stopped drinking ages ago, especially Trevor, and they were in danger of falling off the barstools.

“I think we should get going,” Mike said.

“Of course you do, you just want to get back into bed,” Trevor muttered.

It was the worst attempt at confrontation Mike had ever heard but he knew what he meant.

“Trevor... please...” Jenny whispered.

“Oh don't you start. I'm sure you love this, do you even like me? Or are you just with me for Mike?” he asked.

He was barely even making sense but Jenny had had enough. She got up and walked out of the bar, looking back tearfully.

Mike didn't want to choose. He never did. But here was a choice between a drunk friend sitting on a barstool and another drunk one out on the streets, in the rain. Mike pulled some money out of his pocket and placed it on the bar before running after her.

“Mike! Oh, well of course you would choose her!” Trevor called after him.

Mike wanted to run back to him, wanted to tell him to stop being such a jerk and making him choose, tell him that he'd choose him, over anything but that Jenny needed him.

He found her out in the rain, standing against the railings and looking out over the water. This promenade was where the two of them had come when Trevor had gone away to Montana to clear his head. They'd sat on the bench and tried to forget how wrong it felt without him there.

“Jen... he doesn't mean it, he's just had too much to drink,” he said as he put his arm around her.

She stiffened at his touch and pushed him away.

“Mike, no, just leave me alone, please,” she said.

“What? Jenny, don't be like this.”

“Don't tell me what to be like. I'm sick of this. Sick of you two arguing and lying to me and -”

Mike held her close, wrapping his arms tight around her to stop her from shouting. He felt her crying against him and felt like there was nothing he could do. He had to be able to fix this somehow, but he didn't know how.

“Mike, let me go...” she breathed.

“I wont. I swear, I wont ever let you go, okay?” he said.

He kissed her forehead and held her but then he felt like something was missing. The two of them wasn't all there was. He was worried about Trevor.

“Jenny, I -”

“It's okay, go see if he's okay. I'll meet you back at the apartment and we can fix this tomorrow.”

Mike kissed her again, thanking her for being so understanding without saying anything. He walked back to the bar but Trevor wasn't there.

“He left a few minutes ago, said he was going home,” the bartender said.

“Fuck...”

“You still have those drinks left, bought and paid for,” he said, pointing to the three shots they'd left behind.

Mike sat down and finished them himself, watching the bar start to spin before he stumbled out into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, I'd like to point out that this doesn't have a conclusion because it sort of took away from the piece and I thought the outcome was pretty obvious. Mike obviously didn't hurt her and Trevor wouldn't have left her like that, so it wasn't him.
> 
> This piece wasn't about what happened after. I just had to get it out of my head.
> 
> Playlist:
> 
> \- Jenny Was A Friend Of Mine  
> \- Replaceable  
> \- Mr. Brightside  
> \- Leave The Bourbon On The Shelf


End file.
